


If you stay.

by typoqueen



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 12:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4348757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typoqueen/pseuds/typoqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gentle breeze disturbs the lace curtains, soft morning sunlight filtering through the window to illuminate the hardwood floorboards. A beam of light falls across her bare back, while her face remains buried in the pillow as she sleeps. It is not yet six o’clock in the morning and yet Ethan Chandler is wide awake, eyes fixated on the soft, dark curls of Vanessa Ives’ hair. </p><p>He didn't leave. He didn't leave her. How could he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Empty no more.

A gentle breeze disturbs the lace curtains, soft morning sunlight filtering through the window to illuminate the hardwood floorboards. A beam of light falls across her bare back, while her face remains buried in the pillow as she sleeps. It is not yet six o’clock in the morning and yet Ethan Chandler is wide awake, eyes fixated on the soft, dark curls of Vanessa Ives’ hair. 

For a while, he lies there, watching her sleep. He cannot see her face, but he can hear the soft sounds of her breath, watch the rise and fall of her back, admire how the white sheets are tangled so exquisitely around her legs. There is something quite heavenly about how she looks, something otherworldly and divine. But when has Vanessa been anything but otherworldly? Her very existence is based on religion and spirituality; sanctified not by God but by Lucifer. Vanessa Ives is something untouchable, intangible, unreal -- she shouldn’t exist. And yet here she is, lying next to him, so peaceful and innocent in her slumber. 

The time is ticking by so slowly, and Ethan can’t bear to wait in this silence any longer. He uses a finger to move some of her hair to the side, smiling as she ever so slightly screws her eyes up at the sun. Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. How did he ever think that leaving her was the right thing to do? How could he ever exist without her by his side? Without seeing her eyelids flutter open in the mornings? Without seeing the delicious curve of her lips as she smiled when she realised he was with her?

As Vanessa woke up, she opened her eyes and was looking right into Ethan’s. There he was, her soul mate, her love, her life. Just hours before they had been so afraid, the light so dim and unforgiving in his eyes. Now it was back, that light that shone in his gaze whenever it met with hers. Vanessa smiled, still sleepy, but very content to be awake. One of her hands reached up to touch his face. He was really there. He hadn’t left.

Their conversation the night before, in the very early hours of the morning really, had lead her to believe that he was going to leave. They had stood by the window, holding each other, but at a distance. Their lips had not met, and that had been the most painful experience of the whole night for Vanessa. Even after everything they had been through, it was still impossible for them to be together, at least from Ethan’s point of view. He had let go of her, and left the room, and a part of Vanessa knew he would never return to her. She knew that when she woke up, he would be gone. 

And that had been his intention all along; Ethan was going to leave.

He was going to turn himself in to the police, but it didn’t work out that way. No. As he crept silently along the corridor to Vanessa’s room, his carefully written letter in hand, he noticed that she hadn’t closed her door properly. There was a small crack left open through which he could see her lying on her bed. It was only a small thing, really, the fact that she had been too tired to get up and properly close the door, but now it made all the difference.

Ethan could see her there, too exhausted to change into a nightgown or even get underneath her sheets. Vanessa was asleep in her black undergarments, directly on top of the bed. He watched her breathing for a moment, the way she looked like she was in so much pain, sheer agony, even in sleep. She was dejected and broken, and he knew it was partly his fault. Ethan closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his fist which was clenched against the doorframe. Why did the door have to be open? Why did he have to see her like this? He couldn’t leave now. Not now that he saw how much she needed him. He knew if he left now, she would be all alone and she wouldn’t look after herself properly. She’d let herself waste away, too sad to go out and too angry to cook for herself.

Opening the door, Ethan had stepped inside, hiding the letter in his jacket pocket so she’d never have to read it. The creak of the floorboards had woken her, and Vanessa sat up, groggy and uncomfortable. 

“Ethan?”

“Vanessa,” he replied, her name on his lips like an addictive chemical he could not stop injecting straight into his veins. Into his heart. His soul. His very life. Ethan couldn’t say anything else, he just walked quickly across the room, removing his jacket and shoes when he reached the bed. 

Sitting next to her on the mattress, he held her face in his hands and looked deeply and longingly into her eyes. Everything he had wanted to say, he simply showed her with his expression. Ethan Chandler poured his love into her as he watched her face crumple and tears fall from her eyes. She was so small and frightened and empty. So empty.

“I’ll stay with you tonight,” he whispered. “I’ll stay with you always, Van.”

Vanessa placed her palms over his hands and held them softly, closing her eyes when she heard his promise to stay. This was unexpected, but just what she needed to hear. Her heart was slowly repairing itself, just as her body was. There was something dark and powerful in her now, and she knew that it scared Ethan. But he was the same as her. They were supposed to be like this, together. 

“I need you,” she replied, her voice cracking. She would never admit that again. That was the only time she’d ever say it, but Ethan would remember it forever and ever until he died, because he needed her as well.

The werewolf laid a gentle kiss against her forehead, and then manoeuvered himself onto the bed properly so he could lie down and hold her close to his body, her face resting on his chest and her arm draped across his midriff.

“I can’t hide from this any longer, Ethan.”

“I can’t, either. Don’t worry, Van, I’m not going anywhere.”

After that, they hadn’t needed to say anything. A short while later, their clothes had been strewn on the floor, their naked bodies pressed together in a tantalisingly slow and passionate embrace. Everything was so delicate and slow, deliberately close and unwilling to have their skin untouching. They shared breath and warmth and kisses and tears. It wasn’t the sort of making love where they were loud and fast, but rather the sort where they were simply pouring emotion into one another. Vanessa cried the most, her eyes tightly shut to conceal the droplets, but it didn’t work so she hid her face in the crook of Ethan’s neck and moaned her delightful pleasure-pain into his skin. His arms were all around her, holding her in close, his own face close to her hair, breathing her in. 

At one point, Ethan moved her leg, his hand running along every inch of it as he wrapped it around his waist. Their skin was hot then, and all he could hear was the soft sounds of her breathing, her soft whimpers as he moved inside her. It was almost innocent, almost pure, this joining of their bodies, and would have been holy if they weren’t so damaged.

When they’d fallen asleep, he had tucked the blankets around them both, holding her still in his arms. Ethan couldn’t stop kissing her head and breathing in her scent. He didn’t want to sleep because he didn’t want to stop looking at her. But Vanessa was exhausted, and so she slept almost instantly, dreaming of a better time, a better place. But she could never imagine a better love than this. And eventually, Ethan had slept too, but not for long. The sunlight had woken him tenderly, and there he was, gazing into his lover’s eyes.

“Good morning,” Vanessa said in a quiet voice, shifting in the bed so she could kiss him. When he smiled back at her, his fingers brushing her hair away again, tucking the dark strands behind her ear, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. “I told you we’d feel less afraid. Today I feel like everything is alright, Mr Chandler. We are okay.”

“We are okay, Miss Ives. Together, we are okay.”


	2. A beautiful thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing about jungle vines is that they’ll stay with that one tree forever, only falling when the tree falls. They’re beautiful in their own right, but eventually they both become dependent on one another for survival. The insects attracted to the vine for food help to pollinate the tree. The tree provides the vine with support, and they both share the water supply from underneath the ground. After time, even their roots become entangled.

Half a year had passed, since Vanessa had crumbled the face of the devil-possessed fetish doll that had tempted her with a perfect life. Half a year since Ethan Chandler had decided to stay with her for the rest of their lives. Half a year was a good amount of time to adjust to a normal life. Half a year of happiness, of not being afraid, of calmness and stillness, and most importantly, no more fighting the darkness.

While they remained unmarried, it didn’t seem important to either of them to rectify. Nobody asked questions and nobody seemed to care, and if they spoke about them behind their backs, well, that was irrelevant. Ethan and Vanessa didn’t rely on the opinions of others for their happiness. 

Sir Malcolm Murray had returned from Africa, but he didn’t come back alone. Along the journey something had happened to Sembene’s coffin. Malcolm had awoken one morning to find that the casket was open, slightly destroyed around the edges. There had been a death on board the ship; someone found severed limbs in a pool of blood. The explorer had found his man sat in a corner, a stoic and contemplative look on his face, and blood on his hands.

Sembene had succumbed to the same curse as Ethan. 

Nevertheless, he and Malcolm still spent some time in Africa, wandering the lands of Sembene’s childhood until they both thought it was time to return to London. Despite the curse, however, Sembene was much unchanged. He was calm as ever, only now he carried a burden with him. Malcolm was as much a friend to him as an employer, assuring him of his continued support no matter what. Their homecoming was met with happiness and tears and a house that had been opened up to allow more sunlight inside it than ever.

The months that had passed had seen Vanessa happier than ever. She and Ethan had kept the house themselves, with no need for servants. They’d even delighted in the cleaning of the rooms, cooking all their own meals, and spending the mornings wrapped up in each other and the sheets, not moving for anything until they were hungry. To have their small and dysfunctional family back now was more than they could have hoped for. Of course, Ethan felt tremendous guilt about Sembene’s new curse, but it was met with reassurance that all would be well. 

And now Vanessa stood in her room, staring at the calendar. Her finger traced the dates, counting the days, the weeks. Panic rose in her throat, a short surge of disbelief and a horrible feeling of not knowing what to do. It all made sense now; the odd cravings, the occasional sickness, feeling tired and a little grumpy. She was with child.

Ethan’s child. Their child.

By her reckoning it would be due to arrive in only four months time. How could she have not noticed all this while? She supposed her mind had been on other things. The colour drained from her face and she walked backwards until she felt her bed hit the back of her legs, sitting down with a hand over her mouth. How would she tell him? How would she tell the others? It was all a bit much to take in. As she sat there in shocked silence, she recounted the vision that Lucifer had shown her that fateful night six months previously, how desperately she had wanted it to be true. She had wanted Ethan’s children, but a part of her was terrified to have a baby. The thought of passing on her terrible luck was nothing short of a nightmare. What if the baby was cursed the same way as she was? Or like Ethan was? What if the devil wanted the child like it had wanted her? What if it was a monster? Or worse yet, if it was born pure and innocent, only to be taken away from them?

Then the door creaked open and Ethan walked in, a great smile plastered across his face, completely oblivious to this new revelation. “Van! We’ve just had an invitation to Mr Lyle’s next evening of entertainment. It promises to be a rather splendid night!” When he saw the look she wore, though, he stopped smiling and went to sit next to her.

“Is something wrong?” He asked her, putting a gentle hand on the small of her back.

“No, not wrong exactly. I just… I need some rest,” came her reply. She was finding it hard to articulate what was going on. She was scared, for the first time in months. Deeply frightened. What if this was Ethan’s worst nightmare? What if he didn’t want children? They’d never even spoken of it together, so she couldn’t possibly know what he would think. Parenthood is simply not for everyone. 

“Let me rest with you,” he replied softly, laying a kiss on top of her head while his arms went around her to hold her close. “And you can tell me when you feel ready to tell me, because I know the difference between you feeling tired and that look I just saw on your face, Van.”

All of a sudden, Vanessa just burst into tears. She didn’t know whether to blame it on the pregnancy or on her fear, but she was crying her eyes out and her face was buried in her hands. She had no idea what to say or do. Ethan just sat there stunned for a moment, but kept his arms around her. Then he shuffled back on the bed and pulled her in to hold her close. She pressed her head into his stomach and just sobbed for a solid minute, barely pausing to breathe. While she cried, Ethan rubbed her back, occasionally playing with her hair, because he knew how much that calmed her down usually.

“Vanessa, darlin’, just tell me what’s up,” he murmured after another minute or so had passed. One of his strong hands moved to her head to try and tilt her face to look at him, but she resisted. “Do you need some whiskey? How about a smoke, huh? Look, just tell me if there’s anything you need, okay?”

The dark haired woman, eyes red and puffy and still closed as her face remained buried in his clothing, mumbled something inaudible as the crying subsided. She wriggled a bit, so she could lie on her side, her face now looking up at him.

“Speak up, darlin’.”

“I said ‘You could start by buying a crib’,” she blurted out in a strained whimper, moving a hand to cover her face again. Vanessa couldn’t bear to watch his reaction. Her breaths were coming slow and ragged now, and she brought her knees up further to make herself small, waiting for him to get annoyed or upset or to just stay silent and walk away.

But he didn’t do any of that. Ethan just laughed, running a hand through her dark tresses and pulling her up by her shoulders. He was smiling -- the exact opposite of what Vanessa had expected -- and looking into her eyes like he’d never seen someone so amazing. There was only one reaction in his mind; utter joy. He was so proud of her for all she’d done, and couldn’t understand why she was so upset. This was the best news he’d heard in so long. The American had always wanted children, but he hadn’t dared to mention it to Vanessa, just in case the thought of it would upset her, in case that wasn’t what she wanted. They weren’t married, after all, so it would be presumptuous of him to ask her to carry his children.

“Vanessa Ives. You are the most amazing human being I have ever met. And even more amazing now you’re going to be a mother. Why on earth are you cryin’? This is great news, Van! I will go out first thing tomorrow and I’ll buy us the nicest crib I can find, okay? Why are you upset about this?”

“I just wasn’t sure it was what you wanted. I didn’t know -- it’s been months, and we’ve been so busy getting the house clean and tidy for Malcolm’s return, I just didn’t notice. I don’t know what to do. What if there’s something wrong with the baby? What if it’s like me?”

“Look, Van, that doesn’t matter right now. I’m certain that he or she will be absolutely perfect, especially if they’re anything like their mother. Alright?” Ethan paused for a minute, watching as Vanessa nodded and wiped some tears from her eyes. “And I had an idea about it, anyway.”

“What? You did?”

“Well, of course. I know you. You’ve been actin’ different for weeks. Just little things, like eatin’ eggs for breakfast instead of cake. Takin’ naps in the middle of the day because you ‘just felt like it’. And that week a couple months ago where you were just throwin’ up for no reason. It all added together, darlin’. And I don’t mean to offend you, but you have put on a little weight. It suits you, though -- you’re beautiful, Vanessa. Truly. I was just waitin’ for you to say somethin’. I thought you were takin’ your time to tell me, to make sure everything was alright, you know? With the baby. You know how things are. We’re not married, we’re living with Malcolm, it’s a bit out of the ordinary, y’know...”

Vanessa started crying again, but happy tears this time. She smiled at him, unable to produce any words for an appropriate response. She had been so ready to lose him over this. Perhaps she’d been too melodramatic, too anxious over the situation. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and wrapped her arms about his neck like some sort of jungle vine latching onto a tree, forever to be attached to it. 

The thing about jungle vines is that they’ll stay with that one tree forever, only falling when the tree falls. They’re beautiful in their own right, but eventually they both become dependent on one another for survival. The insects attracted to the vine for food help to pollinate the tree. The tree provides the vine with support, and they both share the water supply from underneath the ground. After time, even their roots become entangled.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Well, I’m gonna be here for you, okay? Anything you want or need, I’m your man. Come here,” Ethan said with a smile, pulling her on top of him so she was sat across his lap. He tucked her head under his chin and held her close, letting her body relax against him.

“What will we say to Malcolm?”

“Whatever you wanna say. Either he’ll accept it or he won’t. But my guess is he’ll be thrilled. He loves you, Vanessa, and he’ll love our children as well. They’ll be like little grandkids to him,” Ethan enthused, running his fingers through her hair again. “But we should get our own place. Away from London. I don’t wanna bring up a child here. That’s all I ask.”

Vanessa thought about it for a while, considering where else they could go. Her father had left her their family home, the one by the sea. But could she bear to live there again after all that had happened in her younger years? Perhaps not. Perhaps if Mina was still there, waiting just beyond that little black gate. If they were still the very best of friends, closer than sisters. Maybe then Van could live there again. But no, everything had changed.

“I’ll sell my father’s house and we can find somewhere beautiful. Somewhere that feels like our home, where we could spend the rest of our lives.”

“Perfect,” Ethan, said in almost a low growl, nuzzling into Vanessa’s neck. One hand ran down her side, slowly caressing each inch of her until he reached her waist, where it slid around and he laid the hand over her stomach. He held her close and whispered; “I love you both. More than anything. You two are the most important things in the world for me now. You name it, Vanessa, and I’ll do it for you. Hell, I’d reach into the sky and pluck the very moon from it’s axis and serve it to you on a silver platter. If that’s what you want, you’ve got it.”

And for the following few months, that’s how things were. 

Ethan practically waited on Vanessa hand and foot, although she repeatedly told him off for it. He brought her food when she hadn’t even asked, drew her baths when he knew she needed to relax. When they slept at night, his hands were always on her swollen stomach, drawing neat and affectionate circles with his fingers. Ethan enjoyed speaking to her stomach, despite Vanessa's pleas, through fits of laughter, that he cease the embarrassment and just kiss her instead. Which he always did. 

Sembene was the first to know when he walked in on Vanessa looking at a tiny baby pair of shoes that Ethan had bought, and he took it like a proud uncle. The smile on the man’s face was something Vanessa had never thought she’d see. Of course, she had seen Sembene smile before, but never with such meaning. It was beautiful and heartwarming and touching. 

When Sir Malcolm found out, Vanessa had watched his eyes widen, and then fill with tears of happiness. All he could do was hold his arms out for her and fill with joy as she ran into them, hugging him close. They stayed like that for a good minute or so, with Malcolm whispering into her ear how proud he was of her. The adventurer was most excited to be in the child’s life, and pledged his love and support for Vanessa and Ethan forever more. He was overjoyed by the news, surely as if Vanessa was his own child and he truly was about to become a grandfather.

When their other friends discovered the news, they received a shower of letters expressing congratulations and such. Victor called on the house at least once a week to spend time with them, and all they heard from Mr Lyle was how thrilled he was and that they should name the baby after him. On one visit, My Lyle proudly announced to them that he was a secret but avid knitter and had created some garments especially for the baby. He presented them with an array of baby clothing in blue and in pink, so that whether it was a boy or girl they’d have plenty to dress it in for the first few months of it’s life. They were beyond grateful for the thoughtful gift, and promised Mr Lyle that he was always welcome to come and visit.

During her pregnancy, Vanessa had frequent moments of depression and anxiety, where she could hardly get out of bed, let alone leave her room to be sociable. All it took to reassure her was Ethan, reminding her how powerful she was, and how they would both fiercely protect their baby to the ends of the earth. It was true; they’d both die if they needed to. They made solemn vows to one another that this baby was worth both their lives. Ethan would sit on her bed and stroke her hair, even read to her if he thought she wanted it.

It was during one of the times that Vanessa was particularly happy that she felt her thighs grow hot and wet. She looked down to see a watery stain had soaked through her gown, and a clenching pain shot through her stomach. Gasping for air and clutching at her dress, she had stumbled to the stairwell, gripping the railings for support. 

“Ethan! Etha----” Her cry was cut short by another pain, her body doubling over, knees bent and shaking. Vanessa called for him again, her voice low and hoarse as the contractions flexed through her body. “Ethan, you get here right now,” was the last thing that came out of her mouth before she saw him running up the stairs towards her, sheer panic on his face, and excitement hidden behind that. Although neither of them had any idea how to deal with this, there have never been parents more excited to meet their baby.


	3. Hard night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a pause as Victor rolled up his sleeves, then he reached for Vanessa’s face and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He hated seeing her in so much pain. For a brief moment, seeing her like this, soaked in sweat and blood, reminded him of his mother. He made a vow then, that he would not let Vanessa Ives die. Even if that meant that the baby didn’t survive. It would be a terrible decision to make, but better him to make it than Ethan.

“My god, is it time already?” Ethan asked breathlessly as he reached the top of the stairs, immediately putting his arms around Vanessa for support. “Let’s get you back to your room, okay? These things can take hours, I’ve heard. I’ll get Sembene to call for a doctor, and-- What do you need? Uh, what should I do?”

“Just don’t leave me--” Vanessa managed to implore, her voice low and gravelly, before she clenched her teeth against the pain. “Fuck.”

Ethan was a little surprised to hear her swear like that; Miss Ives did not usually curse so easily. He realised this must be quite difficult and she was probably terrified. Scooping her up, he carried her to the bedroom and put her gently in the middle of the bed, propping her up with an array of pillows. He smoothed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

Vanessa could see the panic in his eyes, even though she knew he was doing his best to hide it. She knew that he was the kind of person who felt he had to stay strong for both of them in this situation, and for that she was grateful. She watched as he ran to the door and yelled something out to Sembene, asking him to call for a midwife and a doctor. Turning onto her side, she brought her legs up to try and deal with the pain, holding her stomach as she tried to breathe deeply and regulate her oxygen intake. Staying calm was the best option, despite the feeling she had that told her to panic.

Within seconds, Ethan was back at her side, sitting behind her on the bed, one hand on her waist while the other was smoothing her hair back again. “I’m right here, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere, okay? It’s just you and me now, until Sembene comes back with a midwife.”

A low groan of pain came from deep in her throat, her breath quickening as her stomach felt like she was being torn apart from the inside out. She reached desperately for Ethan’s hand and held it tightly, her face pressed into the pillow as she got through the pain.

“Oh my god,” Ethan whispered, and Vanessa felt him lurch a little bit, pulling his hand away. For a moment she was confused, until she turned around. “There’s so much blood, Van.”

She turned her face to look over her shoulder and saw that he was right. Blood had drenched her white nightgown, soaking through the flimsy fabric and spreading like a large and ominous poppy across the bed. A gasp of terror shuddered from her lips, her eyes wide and her face pale. Slender hands reached down to pull up her nightgown a little so she could reach between her legs. The amount of blood was horrifying; her hand came back thickly coated in crimson, shaking with fear and pain. She looked at Ethan, her tearful eyes pleading with him to do something, anything. How could she have thought this pregnancy was something good in their lives? Everything she’d been through was for nothing, she realised, if she was going to die tonight. Or if she survived but her baby did not…

Searching for reassurance in Ethan’s eyes was a mistake, because she did not find it there. He was just as frightened as she was now, just as horrified by the pool of death that was spreading across the sheets. All he could do was hold her face and kiss her hard, adjusting his position so that he could sit behind her with his legs either side and hold her against his chest. The American was not prepared for this, and little tears sprang to his eyes despite his earlier resolution to be the strong one here. How could he ever have thought he was stronger than Vanessa? And now that even she was frightened, it sent an icy dagger of dread through his heart. He kissed the top of her head and kept his lips pressed there for a while, trying to calm his own breathing.

“It’s going to be alright, Van. Maybe this is normal. As soon as the midwife gets here, everything will go smoothly, alright? I know it hurts. You’re doin’ so well, darlin’,” Ethan said, and luckily his voice managed to stay steady. The rhythm of it was comforting to Vanessa, and she closed her eyes against the pain, leaning back into him as another contraction ripped through her body and she almost screamed. She could feel a sheen of sweat appearing on her face as she clenched her teeth again.

The sound of voices downstairs drifted up to them, and then running feet on the stairs. The door swung open and Dr Frankenstein ran in. As soon as he saw the blood, his jaw set his mouth into a hard line and his brows furrowed. He put his doctor’s kit on a nearby chair and came to Vanessa’s side. 

“Sembene went to the hospital but there were no midwives available at this time, Vanessa. Trust you to go into labour at midnight,” he tried to joke with her to create some ease. “Are you alright with me being here? I’ll give you something for the pain.”

Vanessa nodded, smiling at him through the tears.

“Sir Malcolm is outside with Sembene, you know. We’re all here, Vanessa.”

There was a pause as Victor rolled up his sleeves, then he reached for Vanessa’s face and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He hated seeing her in so much pain. For a brief moment, seeing her like this, soaked in sweat and blood, reminded him of his mother. He made a vow then, that he would not let Vanessa Ives die. Even if that meant that the baby didn’t survive. It would be a terrible decision to make, but better him to make it than Ethan. 

Victor gave the American a brief nod; nothing else was necessary. They both knew that amount of blood was never a good sign. He had already prepared a clean and brand new syringe of morphine, and wasted no time in tying the tourniquet around her arm to inject her with it. He knew that usually she might have said no, but she needed it. 

As the drug took effect coursing through Vanessa’s bloodstream, Ethan felt her body relax a little more into his chest. He stroked her hair, putting his arms around her and kissing her on the cheek. When he looked down, he could see that the bottom half of her nightgown was almost completely soaked now. Fuck me, he thought, this is Hell. But he daren’t say it out loud in case he scared Vanessa. She seemed to be a little better now that Victor was there.

“Have you ever even delivered a baby, Victor?” Vanessa suddenly asked, her voice hitching.

“Er… Not exactly,” he responded, sitting at the foot of the bed. “I delivered a foal once… And I watched many procedures in medical school, so I vaguely know what I’m doing.”

“Only vaguely!?” She yelled, incredulous and exasperated.

“Well, mostly. I know how it all works.”

“Look, Vanessa, this is Victor. I trust him to look after you. He does know what he’s doing he’s just being modest, alright?” Ethan’s voice was stern and commanding.

Vanessa nodded again, her face grimacing in pain. With her eyes closed, she tried to turn her face to Ethan’s chest, twisting her spine around she she could nuzzle into him.

“It might help if you straighten around, Vanessa. I imagine in that position the fetus is pressing against your organs. It will be easier if you lie back as well, I think,” Victor said quietly. He knew if this was anyone else he’d be squeamish, too awkward to help, but this was his best friend and he was damn well going to do all he could.

Waiting for her to adjust her position, Victor watched as Ethan came out from behind her so she could lie back properly. She held onto Ethan’s hand, her breathing accelerated again. The doctor let out a sharp breath and went to sit between her legs. He was quite skilled at keeping a straight face even in horrifying situations, so he didn’t let on to either of his friends just how difficult this was going to be. 

“Vanessa, I know this is going to hurt a lot, but you need to push downwards from your stomach. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

“Or the baby,” she whispered, looking down at him with a severe look.

“I’ll do what I can.”

In that moment Vanessa thought that she might hate Victor after this night was over. There was a horrible creeping feeling in her that her child wasn’t going to make it, and part of her sensed that she was more important to Victor than the baby. In fact, Vanessa was dead certain she could read exactly that in his sunken, black-ringed eyes.

The first time she tried to push, she thought she was dying. The scream that tore from her mouth was animalistic and primal, and outside the door, Malcolm and Sembene looked at each other. Those two grown men were even scared for her at that point. And with each push after that, the waves of pain only increased. 

An hour passed and nothing had changed.

Ethan was next to her still, mopping her brow with a cold cloth, whispering encouragement to her. He didn’t dare look down in case what he saw wasn’t anything good. Petrified wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe what he was feeling. In one hard night he could lose the love of his life and their firstborn baby. That was not how he was going to let this end. He had to make a decision quickly, or he’d risk losing everything. His mind included.

“Victor, I don’t care what you have to do, just get it out of her and save her life. That’s all that matters here,” Ethan growled at the doctor, running a hand over his face and rubbing his eyes. He was so very angry at the world.

“I’m doing all I can, Ethan. I don’t want her to die either,” Victor hissed in response, just quiet enough that Vanessa wouldn’t be able to hear him over her own ragged breathing and delirious screams of pain. 

But then Vanessa’s eyes started to close, and she went limp, her head falling to one side. The screams had stopped, which somehow was even worse.

“No, no, no, no, NO--” Ethan cried out, taking Vanessa’s face in his hands again. “Vanessa - don’t give up. Don’t sleep, that’s literally the worst thing you could do right now. Open your goddamn eyes, Van. Open your eyes and look at me.”

And she did. She woke up and looked right at Ethan and saw just how scared he was. But she also saw that he hadn’t given up hope just yet. Although Vanessa had no words for this moment, she knew that she was going to make it through this. She nodded at him, trying to smile despite how hard she was crying and whimpering in pain.

“Vanessa? Can you try just once more for me? If it doesn’t work this time, then we’ll have to do something else that will be much harder than this.” Victor’s voice was calm, but he too was sweating profusely, and his arms were bloody almost up to his elbows.

And just like that, Vanessa Ives balled her hands up into fists and propped herself up on her elbows, screwing her face up in agony as she pushed as hard as she could. The whole world seemed to stop, time ceasing to tick by and silence swallowing them up like a thick fog. Her ears were ringing and she felt like every ounce of energy she ever had was all used up in this one singular moment.

Then crying. A baby’s cry.

Victor was smiling, even let out an incredulous laugh. The surprise on his face was a sight to behold; he’d seriously thought he was going to have to cut her open to save her life. Victor held up the baby, checked it for important life signs, grinning the whole time. By the time he handed the baby over to Vanessa, there were tears in his eyes.

“Vanessa, he’s perfect,” Victor whispered.

“A boy?” She asked hoarsely, as Ethan propped her up with pillows and supported her weight with his arm as well. “We have a boy?” Taking the infant from Victor’s arms, she held her son with such love and adoration she had never felt before. The baby squawked with his newborn cry, calming a little as he nestled in his mother’s embrace. Tears rolled down Vanessa’s cheeks as she looked at him, completely and utterly in love. 

“He’s so tiny,” Ethan said in a hushed voice, one arm going around Vanessa while his other hand reached out to gently touch the baby’s head. “I’m so proud of you, Van. I’m in awe of you constantly.” He kissed the side of her face and then pressed his forehead to the same spot, breathing deeply. “God, I love you so much.”

After that, Victor made sure that everything was alright with both mother and child, and Ethan helped Vanessa to clean herself and the baby up. He completely stripped the bed sheets and replaced them with fresh ones, making sure that any sight of all that blood was gone. He made a mental note that nothing could scare a grown man more than childbirth. Then when they were ready, and Vanessa felt like she was ready to see her surrogate father, Ethan took their son, all wrapped up in the softest blankets, out into the corridor to meet Sir Malcolm and Sembene.

“It’s a boy,” Ethan announced, with the biggest smile he could ever achieve.

Malcolm was over the moon that this was all over. As he’d sat there listening to her screams and feeling unable to help her, he’d been distraught. Now, as he took the infant from Ethan and gazed down at him, Sir Malcolm sighed with happiness, pressing a gentle kiss the baby’s little forehead. “Can I see her?”

The men all came into the room to see Vanessa sat up in bed, looking utterly exhausted but nowhere near as bad as she’d looked when the devil was in her, despite the fact her screams had been worse on this occasion. She smiled up at them and Malcolm came to sit by her on the bed. Sembene stayed further away, but he smiled at Vanessa triumphantly. Malcolm held the baby in one arm and used his other hand to stroke Vanessa's hair. The look he gave her was one of sheer pride - he adored her so very much.

“This little one is every bit as handsome as his parents,” Sir Malcolm said, giving Vanessa one of his rarest smiles. “Have you thought about what you’ll call him?”

And quite without hesitation, both Vanessa and Ethan replied at exactly the same time--

“Charles.”


	4. The Adventures of Rosie-May and the Five-Hero Tribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will you tell me a story, Ethan?” The woman asked, her lips pressed softly to the side of Charles’ tiny head. She breathed in the scent of him, that unbearably delightful baby smell that nobody could ever truthfully say was horrible in any way. 
> 
> Ethan thought for a few moments, contemplating the happy memories he had from his childhood. He rarely, if ever, spoke to Vanessa about his life in America, but he figured that now was as good a time as any. Leaning over her, he kissed her head, then the baby’s and began to weave together some of the brighter memories of his past, from before the trouble started to cut holes in the perfection that was his family.

The new house was large and magnificent, a big white-brick box placed squarely in the centre of a cluster of rolling green hills. Nature had spread it’s pretty green fingers as far as the eye could see, and had cried a pool of raindrops long ago that had formed a crystal clear lake that was home to all sorts of wildlife. The house, named Lockleigh Manor after the family who had originally owned it, had been built there years ago specifically for its handsome location, and had always been the envy of the less wealthy people who lived in the nearby villages. 

Ethan had chosen it as a surprise for Vanessa, using the money from selling her father’s house to buy it with her consent. In this matter alone she was willing to relinquish the decision-making solely to Ethan. She had enough on her plate with the new baby, after all.

A long farewell had been said by all; the last four weeks were nothing but social calls and friendly visits and congratulatory gifts. Baby Charles was the talk of the town it seemed, which had utterly exhausted Vanessa, although she never stopped smiling. 

Even Dorian Gray had paid them a few visits. Or course, it had been an awkward situation the first time Vanessa had told him she was going to be a mother, but he had taken the news with grace and decorum, and had been a true gentleman about it all. That didn’t mean that deep down he felt a little cheated, though. Mr Gray was always of the opinion that he and Vanessa were made for one another. He had been attracted to her hidden depths, her unequivocal beauty and charm, the darkness that lingered after her kisses, the shadow that lived inside of her. Imagine what they could have been together, what they could have had. The baby could have been his. But it wasn’t. And so he smiled and talked and waved goodbye at the party like everyone else did -- like he was expected to.

The baby had fussed and cried the whole way in the carriage, and Vanessa had grown utterly exasperated with everything. Even more so when Ethan took their son and the crying immediately stopped. It all but broke her heart because it made her think that she couldn’t even stop her own baby from being upset. No mother wants to feel that way, especially when they’re so tired they could murder someone for a wink of sleep. She was in such a bad mood that she no longer felt that burning excitement to see their new home, and when they finally arrived after hours of traveling, all she wanted to do was sleep.

“But Van, I need to give you the grand tour!” Ethan said as they emerged from the carriage, helping the driver to unload all of their cases. 

“Ethan, please -- I just need some rest. I promise you can take Charles and I on whatever tour you like after I’ve slept a while. For now, can you please just show me to our bedroom?”

Ethan sighed, but reminded himself that she had recently given birth and deserved all the rest in the world while she could still take it. Luckily, Charles had drifted off into a peaceful sleep in the carriage, so Vanessa wouldn’t have to worry fussing over him for a little while. The American picked up one of their cases while a young lad came running out of the house and down the steps towards them, smiling and greeting them formally. He picked up some cases and carried in as many as his little frame could manage.

“Ah, Vanessa, this is Mr Jones, one of our new servants. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of interviewing and hiring them all myself. I’ll explain it all inside.”

Miss Ives shot Mr Chandler a quizzical look, but nodded and followed them into the manor. Everything was just right, as far as she could see, although it was all rather too much for her to take in all at once. They ascended the stairs, a luxuriously carpeted flight that led onto an even more decadent hallway. Everything was decorated with such taste and looked so expensive and regal, Vanessa thought she might have walked right into the Queen’s private home. They were well-off, but she hadn’t thought they could have afforded this. 

Ethan shooed Mr Jones away when they reached the bedroom, opening the door for Vanessa and watching with glee as she walked in and looked around. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she loved it already. There was an intricately carved four-poster bed and other furniture to match, red and purple upholstery, and large bay windows that looked out over the grounds. Ethan shut the door behind them, leaving the new servants to get on with sorting out their luggage. He walked up Vanessa, who was looking out over the fields and meadows and the lake, and slid an arm around her waist from behind her.

“I hope this satisfies the lady,” he said in a low voice close to her ear, pressing an amatory kiss to her neck. 

“The lady is most pleased,” came her soft reply in an equally low voice. It was still so early in the day; Vanessa could see that the afternoon rays were shining on the sundial in the courtyard below. She turned, careful to not move too quickly while she held Charles, and tilted her face so she could kiss Ethan. “But the lady is also tired and wishes to sleep.”

Kissing her back, Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle at her. He took the baby happily and watched as Vanessa removed her traveling clothes. Every second, he thanked the world and fate and destiny for all it’s malpractices that had brought them together, for how could he ever love anyone as much as he loved her? Every curve, every shadow on her skin, every lock of hair -- it was all so perfect to Ethan as he watched her walk naked across the floor to open up the case he’d brought in. His eyes followed her slender arms as they lifted out a nightgown, slipping through it like water, the fabric settling over her skin with barely a sound.

“Vanessa.” He said her name like the sound of it was oxygen and he needed to pronounce the syllables aloud for survival. The baby stirred in his arms, his tiny legs flexing at the sound of Ethan’s voice, but the child did not wake. Ethan looked on as Vanessa’s face turned towards him, her eyebrows raised as if to ask him what he wanted, why he’d spoken her name. He simply stood up and held the infant against his chest with one hand so he could touch Vanessa’s face with the other. They smiled at each other, and Ethan kissed her forehead (there was no limit to how many times he would do that and still want to do it again right away), gently and playfully nudging her towards the bed.

When she had gracefully slipped underneath the covers, Vanessa beamed up at Ethan, taking in the sight of him cradling their son like that. There was nothing that warmed her heart so, and nothing that she would rather dream about. She held her arms out, selfishly yearning for the comforting weight of the baby in her arms. Ethan responded by leaning over to kiss her, smiling as he did so.

“Not you,” Vanessa teased, grinning at him sleepily. “I want my boy.”

With a quiet laugh, Mr Chandler handed over the sleeping baby and sighed contentedly as Vanessa made herself comfortable in the bed. He drew the curtains mostly closed so it would be easier for her to sleep, and then went to settle himself on the bed next to them, kicking off his shoes as he did so.

“Will you tell me a story, Ethan?” The woman asked, her lips pressed softly to the side of Charles’ tiny head. She breathed in the scent of him, that unbearably delightful baby smell that nobody could ever truthfully say was horrible in any way. While one of her arms was neatly tucked around Charles, Vanessa used her other hand to idly tap the buttons of his clothes, her fingers plucking just barely at the fabric, then up to ever so softly put one fingertip against the end of his nose. She smiled and closed her eyes, nuzzling against the baby. Ethan watched her all the while, mirroring the smile.

“A story… Now what on earth could I tell you that don’t already know!?” Jested the American, leaning one elbow on the pillows so he could rest his head on his hand.

“Something about you.”

Ethan thought for a few moments, contemplating the happy memories he had from his childhood. He rarely, if ever, spoke to Vanessa about his life in America, but he figured that now was as good a time as any. Leaning over her, he kissed her head, then the baby’s and began to weave together some of the brighter memories of his past, from before the trouble started to cut holes in the perfection that was his family.

“I was the only son of a wealthy couple who lived on a big estate in the countryside. I had a sister as well, named Anabel. But my favourite person by far, was the man who took care of our horses, Mr Upton. He was a big, gruff, almost scary man - someone you wouldn’t approach unless you had a good reason to do so. But when I was six years old I developed a sneaky habit of creepin’ into the stables without supervision and feedin’ the horses my leftovers from breakfast. Now, Mr Upton used to see me sneakin’ in, but he never said a word. I didn’t know at the time, but he was always watchin’ me, makin’ sure I didn’t spook a horse, or that they didn’t bite me or anythin’. I think he was sizin’ me up, because after a few weeks, Mr Upton caught me as I was climbing under one of the fences -- he took a hold of my wrist and he said to me: “You gotta learn, young man.”

“And I was terrified; I thought I was in big trouble for messin’ with his horses, y’know? He spent all day everyday carin’ for them, and there I was sneaking them my crusts and lumps of sugar from the breakfast table. But Mr Upton just pulled me along into the stables and he started to teach me how to care for them. The first thing he showed me was how to groom them, ‘cause they liked that. There was one horse I grew particularly fond of, Rosie-May, who was only small. I could spend hours and hours brushin’ her down, cleanin’ her, pulling my little fingers through her mane and making it all pretty-like.

“And when I got real good at groomin’ them, Mr Upton showed me how to sort out all their tack. First I was just cleanin’ it, but at six years old, I thought I was doin’ the most important job in the world. When he taught me how to put it all on the horses, I was so pleased with myself. It was pretty heavy for me, but I got better at it. When he was satisfied with that, he let me ride Rosie-May. It was one of the best things I’d ever done.

“It was strange, because I always thought Mr Upton was a mean old man. But it just goes to show that people aren’t always what you expect of ‘em. And anyway, my father was pleased that I had something productive to occupy my time with, and proud of me that I could ride fairly well by the time I was eight or nine years old. Little Anabel was envious, of course, but mother wouldn’t let her ride ‘til she was older, for safety and such. Besides, she had her pretty dolls and their houses to play with.

“I think ridin’ those horses was what kept me sane as a boy. My daddy was always so angry at me if I didn’t do what he said, but when I was out in the fields with my horses I was a free man. There was one time, I remember clear as crystal, when I was out ridin’ in some woods by myself, which I wasn’t meant to do. I knew I’d be in trouble for wanderin’ off, so I decided to take my time and draw out the day as long as possible. I found some poor little kids in the wood, their clothes all in tatters and their faces dirty as all heck. They were about ten years old, same as me, only they were smaller and skinnier than I. I recall gettin’ off my horse and greetin’ ‘em, and they just stared at me for a good thirty seconds.

“That felt like the longest few seconds of my life, but then one of ‘em smiled at me, and I knew we were goin’ t’be friends. Their names were Albie, Harry, Caroline, and Thomas, and we had the best of fun. The girl was one of the boys, really, and they never refused to let her play. She was probably the most boisterous of all them, actually. We played cowboys and indians that day, runnin’ through the woods and makin’ all sorts of noises with our hands over our mouths. One of them painted muddy war paint on my face and ruffled up my neatly combed hair. We climbed trees and waded through streams and did all the little kid stuff I never got to do with my prim sister and my overbearing father. 

“When the sun started to go down I really knew I had to go back, but when I went to where I’d tied up Rosie-May, I couldn’t find her anywhere. Somehow she’d gotten loose from the tree branch I tied her to and wandered off. I had to walk all the way home through the woods and over the fields, and when I got home it was almost all the way dark. Luckily Rosie-May had just trotted on back home, and Mr Upton had put her safely to bed. He wasn’t impressed with me, but he knew I was just a kid so he didn’t yell.

“My mother was in sobs, though, bless her heart, and my sister was cryin’ as well. My father… He screamed about how filthy I was, about how I broke my dear mother’s heart, told me I was good for nothin’. Well, that was a terrible scoldin’ I got. He caned my ass good and proper, but I thought to myself it was worth it. Those few hours of freedom I got were second to none, and I knew I’d do it all again the next day. I had to be more careful, though. I devised a plan that I’d ride out once in the mornin’ and once in the afternoon, to see when those other kids would come out to play. I’d have to check back in with Upton to make sure he told my folks I was alright, but then I’d ride straight back out. I got better at tyin’ knots, and Rosie-May never wandered off again, so I could always ride right back to the stables and be cleaned up in time for tea. 

“That summer was one of the best ones of my life. I saw that bunch almost every day - we called ourselves the ‘Five-Hero Tribe’ and took turns in rescuing one another from all sorts of made-up baddies and dangerous situations. We started to see Rosie-May as our official mascot, and I taught them how to ride her. They were thrilled that they had this new friend in my horse, and we used to take her on all our adventures too. We made up that she was an redskin princess trapped in a horse's body, and make believe that one day we'd find a cure for her to transform her back. We'd paint mud patterns on her and then wash it all off before I had to go home... And y'know, we never once made one another feel guilty or ashamed about how different we were. Money didn’t matter when we were young. We were just kids, all the same age, all playin’ games we dreamt up in those woods. I never once thought that I’d never see ‘em again. I never once thought that I’d leave them all without sayin’ goodbye. We stayed friends for years. I remember seein’ Caroline grow up into a beautiful young lady. Radiant, she was, like sunshine. I think she was my first schoolboy love, although I never said anything to her. I always knew she was too good for me, and my parents would never allow me to marry a girl who wasn’t wealthy like us. After a while she wasn’t allowed to play in the woods any more.

“Eventually things went bad with my family. My mother and sister died of some awful fever, and my father just grew more and more angry with each passin’ day. I reluctantly joined the army, served my time. When I returned home I was a changed man. Cursed. But all of that bad stuff doesn’t matter anymore -- I don’t want you to think about any of that. Anyway, I never got to see any of the boys again, or Caroline. I believe young Harry was killed in action, which is a cryin’ shame because he had such a life ahead of him. A lawyer - that’s what he wanted to be. Clever enough to do it, he was.

“I still wonder what those kids are like now. I bet little Caroline is married with babies as blonde as she. She probably married Albie -- those two were always pullin’ each other’s hair and throwing stones at each other. That’s how things are when you're young - you tease the one you're sweet on. Thomas probably ran away with the circus, like he always threatened to do when he got mad. Had a real knack for acrobatics, always swingin' from trees. Hmm, I miss them a lot.”

Ethan laughed, realising he’d been talking for ages, his eyes fixed on tiniest crack in the curtains where he could just about see the sun in the sky. It looked to be about four o’clock - still plenty of time before dinner. Those memories were so dear to him, and he regretted not telling Vanessa about those good, happy days sooner. The American looked down and saw that his love was fast asleep, as was baby Charles, nestled peacefully in his mother’s arms. He smiled, tucking the blankets around Vanessa’s slight frame and kissing them both on the forehead, then put his shoes back on to go and help the servants with sorting out where all their cases needed to go. He’d have to explain about the servants to Vanessa when she woke up again, which would be another story entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know literally nothing abut 19th Century America so forgive me if any of this seems improbable. Of course, we as the audience know very little of Ethan’s life in America so this is all made up from my own ideas about what his family might have been like. I’ll gladly take suggestions if anyone else has any headcanons about him / his family, or if anyone would like me to write anything specific in the future. Thanks for reading!


	5. House of the Occult.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ethan, why on earth would you do this? You know I don’t want anything like that around our son -- I thought we were done with all of it. I thought this was a fresh start.”
> 
> “You didn’t seriously think it was over forever, did you, Van? Are you that naive to think you’d vanquished the devil forever? And my curse certainly will never be gone. Grow up, Vanessa, and face the truth of it. I thought you knew what you were. You’re a mother now on top of that, and we have to think about the future. Isn’t it better to be prepared? Isn’t it?”

“What was it you were saying, darling?”

“Hm?”

“What was it you were saying before, about the new servants?”

There was a pause while Ethan’s pen scratched out a few more words on the paper, a brief silence and then a tap as his pen hit the wooden surface.

“You never did tell me what was so important about it all. Because I fell asleep. Oh, and I would like that tour before supper, if you still want to show me the house.”

“Oh, that,” Ethan replied, turning in his chair to look at Vanessa. She was sat up in bed feeding the baby, who had woken her with his hungry cries. His mind wandered when he saw her exposed skin, so pale and soft and perfect, but he focused on the question she had asked him. Ethan had been sat at the writing desk across the room, penning a letter to Sir Malcolm to invite him for dinner next week. He took out his pocket watch and checked the time; six o’clock. “Get dressed. I’ll show you round the house and explain it on the way. Dinner is in an hour, and I’d hate to keep everyone waiting on our first night here.”

“Very well,” Vanessa agreed, although she never looked up at him. Her eyes were fixed on Charles, who suckled gently and gurgled every now and then, one of his hands curled around her finger. There was something so pure about this to Vanessa, something so right about being a mother. She had never expected it could be so. The dark haired woman had always assumed she would be dead by now, taken by demons or witches -- or else she would grow old alone and die with nobody by her side at her deathbed. That’s what she once thought she deserved, anyway. She wondered if every young girl with dark desires wanted this, secretly. Not once had she ever spoken to anyone about wanting a family, but the need to be loved unconditionally by a baby of her own was always there, lying in the back of her mind. Only now it wasn’t, because it was reality. And she was more than content with that.

“You look so beautiful like that, Van. You were made for being a mother.” 

Finally taking her eyes off her son, Vanessa looked up and smiled at Ethan. When she was done feeding Charles, she handed the baby to Ethan so that she could get dressed again. Everything was so natural between them now, they just existed around one another without words, without bracketing each other or having to explain their every move. Vanessa was eternally grateful for Ethan being who he was, and loving her for all her flaws, and he rarely said it, but he felt exactly the same. His own flaws scared him more than hers.

Mr Chandler kept hold of the baby as he showed Vanessa around the house, so that she could inspect things as she wished, and could hardly keep his attention on the house when the baby was making little noises, his small fists waving around aimlessly.

“So, the thing with the servants. I didn’t just go to an agency and hire the best ones. I sort of… Sought them out individually. I know this might be hard for you to hear right now given the circumstances, but you said it before yourself: we are dangerous. I wanted to hire servants who would be as useful and tolerant towards us as Sembene has been. He knows things, which made him invaluable. Not only that, but I consider him a great friend as well. 

“All the people I hired have something in common with us. They’ve all experienced something supernatural or been touched by the occult in some way. Not always in a big way, but enough for them to believe. And they’re all prepared to help out with whatever they must. I hope you understand why I did this without asking you. I know you’d never want to involve others in anything dangerous, Van, but I feel this was necessary.”

Vanessa was silent for a while, taking in what Ethan had just explained to her. She walked around one of the many rooms in the house. This one happened to contain a piano, which she played for a few seconds, tapping out a barely-there tune she’d learned years ago. Her furrowed brow lead on to closed eyes. Another thing for her to worry about -- brilliant. Her fingertips skittered over some ancient tomes that lay unread in a bookcase, and she noted that they had been cleaned that day. Well, at least the servants were thorough, even if they were completely and undeniably a threat to her family.

“Ethan, why on earth would you do this? You know I don’t want anything like that around our son -- I thought we were done with all of it. I thought this was a fresh start.”

“You didn’t seriously think it was over forever, did you, Van? Are you that naive to think you’d vanquished the devil forever? And my curse certainly will never be gone. Grow up, Vanessa, and face the truth of it. I thought you knew what you were. You’re a mother now, on top of that, and we have to think about the future. Isn’t it better to be prepared? Isn’t it?”

The look on Vanessa’s face said it all; she had been hoping and praying so much that the supernatural and evil parts of her life were finished with that she didn’t even try to think of what might happen next. She knew Ethan was right, but she was too stubborn to admit it or to say she was sorry for snapping at him, so she simply walked out of the room she was inspecting and marched right on to the next one.

“So, tell me about them all, then. Where did you find them?” She finally asked when they’d looked around all of the house and were in the library. Again, she was touching her fingertips to the books as she walked past and noted again how clean they were. Vanessa supposed she ought to be grateful that Ethan had thought of this before her.

“Well, there’s Mrs Taylor, the cook. Her sister was taken by a creature much the same as what happened to Mina. Mrs Taylor thought she’d be able to find her, and she did, but nearly died in the process. She’s missin’ her left ear, but that doesn’t mean her food isn’t delicious. You’ll get to taste it at dinner - she’s really quite skilled at what she does.”

“Alright,” Vanessa offered by way of response. She was making her mind up slowly, deciding whether or not she was happy with these arrangements. “Go on.”

“The twins, Bonnie and Bessie. Housemaids. They have some sort of second sight. They claim to see ghosts and such, but they’re very quiet, very polite, and are extremely hardworkin’. They ran away from a cruel workhouse and one of my friends found ‘em in about to walk into a brothel, about to sign away their freedom. There’s Mr Thompson, the valet, he was seduced by a witch, although he won’t talk about it. Pierre Jones, who you met earlier, he’s the houseboy. He was saved from possession, I believe, although his English isn’t that great so I don’t know the full story. Daniella is the laundry maid, there’s nothing queer about her, but she had the choice of working for us or working for a mean old man and his gossiping wife, so she chose us. I agreed to take her on, on the proviso that she didn’t get fussy about any goings on. Her sister, Hattie, is the kitchen maid.”

Ethan paused for breath, wandering over to where Vanessa was now standing at the window of the library. The view was one of sheer peace. The sun was beginning its descent in the sky, the lake’s ripples were stilling, and birds were flying away to their nests. He kissed the baby in his arms, running a hand along Charles’ back at the same time. All of this was for him, Ethan’s son. His firstborn and most precious creation. For Vanessa, too, but she could take care of herself. The baby was innocent and defenseless, except for the defenses that Ethan could build around him. This was a good house, a good home, and the people he had hired were good people as well. They would be safe here, he’d made sure of it.

“Now the butler is someone quite special, Vanessa. He’s just like you, only he wasn’t born into a wealthy family. He reads cards like you do, and can sense things that others cannot. Used to perform magic tricks and fortune telling in a circus, but he was trained to be a butler from a young age, so he knows what he’s doing. And he speaks almost perfect English, Latin, and French. He’s from Italy; he’s called Antonio Rustici. He’s superstitious, but he’s happy to work here because he understands why I wanted to hire him. I think you’ll like him.”

“He does sound very interesting. I hope he hasn’t had to face the hardships that I have, given that you say we are similar.”

“He’s done alright for himself, I think. Oh, and I haven’t hired a nanny. I figured you’d want to do that yourself. I know that leaving babies with other people can sometimes be a scary thing to do, so I want you to be one hundred percent comfortable with who we choose.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, thank you, Ethan,” Vanessa said as she turned away from the view to smile at him. “You know, I think what you’ve done is going to work out fine for us. It is better to be safe than sorry, and I wouldn’t want to put anyone at risk who did not know what they were getting into when coming to work for us. It is better to have people with at least some knowledge of the occult, especially when we cannot be certain about what lies around the corner for us. I am sorry I tried to quarrel with you.”

“Don’t mention it, Van.”

Behind them, someone knocked on the door to the library and opened it, peeking their head around. It was Pierre, the young houseboy. He said something very quietly, so quiet that neither Mr Chandler nor Miss Ives could hear him. Ethan beckoned him closer.

“Monsieur. Dinner, it is, uh, ready,” the young lad informed them, nervously looking at Vanessa, his eyes flickering from her to Ethan and back again. Then, he came right up to Ethan and said something quietly into his ear before backing away again.

Ethan laughed, and then motioned to the door for the boy to leave. “Thank you, Mr Jones. That will be all,” he said softly, still chuckling.

When he’d gone, Vanessa turned to him with eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What on earth did he say to you?”

“He said,” Ethan began, smirking playfully at Vanessa before pulling her in for a kiss. “That you’re too pretty to be sad.”

“I wonder what made him think I was sad.”

“I’ve no idea. He probably heard you talking earlier or something. Anyway, let’s go and eat. I don’t want Mrs Taylor’s efforts to get cold.”

The food was as delicious as Ethan had promised it would be, a hearty meal of roasted beef with vegetables, and the perfect combination of herbs. 

It was dark outside, and starting to get late, but Ethan wasn’t tired. He watched as two of the servants came in to collect all the dinnerware, then turned his attention to Vanessa. She had left the room to go and feed Charles, but had returned again, and was doing her best to stay awake with Ethan. Seeing how tired she was, Ethan suggested that they retired for the night and get a good night’s rest before Vanessa could properly get to know the household the next day. 

Upstairs again, Vanessa realised that she was too nervous in this big, old house. She didn’t want Charles sleeping in another room, and she wasn’t entirely at ease by herself. They brought the crib into their room and set it next to their own bed, so they would be able to see to the baby right away in the night, and Ethan promised he wouldn’t leave her by herself.

“Was everything as you’d hoped it would be?” Ethan asked Vanessa as he lay next to her in their bed. He had been propped up reading a book by candlelight, but was bored of it, and knew that Vanessa wasn’t asleep just yet.

“It was different. This place is different. I am glad to be here, though.” There was a brief pause while Vanessa sighed, turning over so she could look up at Ethan. “I miss London, strangely. I miss Malcolm and Sembene. I miss Victor. I even miss helping in the homeless shelter underground. It was horrid work, but it was rewarding -- and now here I am, living as extravagantly as I was when I was a girl. And yet I can’t enjoy it, truly, because I now understand the world and all the horrors that people face.”

“Try not to think about it. You deserve some peace.”

“Not long ago I would have given anything to hear someone tell me that I deserved peace. But I don’t believe it now. I don’t think anyone deserves peace. Happiness, perhaps, but not peace. Isn’t is boring? Mundane? Why would we choose that?”

“To be safe. For protection. To look after our son without any danger.”

“It wouldn’t have to be dangerous to live the uncommon life.”

“Our lives will always be uncommon, even if you are bored. We’ve only been here a day, Vanessa. You’ve yet to meet the neighbours from the next town. And anyway, we can invite our friends to stay with us soon. They’ll all love to come and visit.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Miss Ives said with a half-smirk, reaching up to take the book from Ethan’s hands. She leaned across him to put it on the bedside table and kissed him as she did so. One of her hands held onto his neck and she pulled him down further into the bed so they could lie there, face to face, nose to nose. 

The candle lit their features just enough that Mr Chandler could see that Vanessa was smiling at him, and he smiled back equally as happy. His hand was resting on her waist now, thumb ghosting circles over her lowest rib. With a low chuckle, he rubbed their noses together and then kissed her deeply, moving his hand to her lower back to pull her closer. There was nothing he wanted more than to just feel her against him, without needing anything else from her to know that this was where they were meant to be. He wasn’t asking her for sex -- they hadn’t been intimate since the baby was born -- but Vanessa seemed to want it anyway. She tugged at his pajamas, still fiercely kissing him. 

“Are you sure?” Ethan muttered the question, his hand going down to stay her actions for a moment. He didn’t want to hurt her. All he needed was the nod she gave without hesitation, and he released her hand from his grip to let her continue, his own hand returning to her waist. He ran it firmly over her body, fingers grasping at the material of her nightgown, squeezing her ass, pulling her hips against his and grinding against her. 

Vanessa was so caught in the moment, her eyes closed, breathing quickened, heart pounding -- she had wanted him so badly the past month but hadn’t been able to do anything about it until now. Her hand was firmly wrapped around him, her mouth pressed against his in a greedy kiss that she could have let go on forever. Her whole body was on fire, and it was ecstasy to feel Ethan pushing away her nightgown, to slide her leg over him and push him onto his back. She knew he’d be happy to let her take this at her own pace for now. A small gasp flew from her as she lowered herself down onto him, taking him inside her ever so slowly. Looking down, she could see the love in his eyes, could feel it emanate from him. Vanessa put a hand on his cheek and moved her hips. The hand trailed down to his chest as she leaned backwards to feel him inside her at a different angle. While she had to go slow to avoid hurting herself, this was perfect for both of them - tender, loving, quiet.

The scratching on the window didn’t become apparent right away, but after a low moan, Vanessa quieted herself and was suddenly worried about waking the baby. She was hyper aware of the sounds in the room then - the rustle of sheets as she rode Ethan, the sound of their heavy breathing, Charles’ peaceful breathing nearby, and the scratching on the window that had definitely not been there before.

When Vanessa’s expression changed, Ethan knew right away that something was wrong. “Vanessa -- what is it? What’s the matter?” He asked in hushed tones as she dismounted him, running to the window to rip open the curtain. 

A shock of blonde hair, pale - almost ghostly - skin, and that laugh. It resounded in Vanessa’s ears. At first she thought it was Mina come back to haunt her, but the message written in blood on the window was not her style. Rock-a-bye baby, it read in large, bloody letters that spread across the window. Vanessa knew that she and Ethan just couldn’t be allowed to be happy. There was someone out there who valued their own dreadful and sinister desires above all else, and they wanted Vanessa’s son. Vanessa knew this was someone she knew for how else would they know where to find her? Someone who wanted their child, who was willing to go to any lengths to steal Charles from her and Ethan. Someone with no moral compass, who would quite happily kill for what she wanted. Someone who had changed in physicality as well as personality, so that they were stronger than they had ever been. And perhaps they had been rendered unable to have their own children, through some means, and now desired the closest thing to their own baby they could ever have. The child of a former lover, perhaps. 

Vanessa drew in a ragged breath, furiously wiping tears from her eyes as she watched the blonde figure run off into the night. Drawing the curtains closely, Vanessa turned to check on the baby, who was still sound asleep. Then she crawled back into bed. She knew exactly who that was, that messenger of torment with their shrill laugh and insufferably fake accent; their inability to feel real love. Vanessa kept seeing her face over and over again in her mind.

Lily Frankenstein.


End file.
